Separation
by Velkyn Karma
Summary: Life can always take a turn for the worse, and Bolin learns it the hard way when he's forced to come to grips with the fact that he might be on his own a little earlier than he thought. Written for Bromotions week. Prompt: Alone. Family/friendship only.
1. Chapter 1

**Separation**

A fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

**Summary:** Life can always take a turn for the worse, and Bolin learns it the hard way when he's forced to come to grips with the fact that he might be on his own a little earlier than he thought. Written for Bromotions week. Prompt: Alone. Family/friendship only.

**Note:** Set pre-_Legend of Korra,_ just a little bit after the brothers get their apartment in the arena. Also partly inspired by Masterarrowhead's brawler Bolin concepts, which I would seriously love to see turned into a fic.

**Warnings:** Rated T for a little violence and mentions of blood.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, or pretend to own, _Legend of Korra_ or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino. The only thing that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

Bolin headed back for home in high spirits with Pabu curled around his neck. He hummed to himself as he trotted down the streets that were _just streets now_ towards the place he and Mako had to call their own.

_Heading back home._ Even two months after they'd moved into the attic of the probending arena, the phrase still sent a comfortably warm bubble of happiness and contentment all through him. He didn't remember having a home before this. His memories of the house his parents had owned were shadowy and full of holes, and while the streets had been where they lived for nine years now, it certainly couldn't be called _home._ The arena's attic was a place that _felt_ like theirs. It wasn't much, and most people probably would have turned their noses up at it, but it had a beautiful view and it was safe and they earned their right to stay there—or, well, mostly Mako did, but it _was_ earned.

The train of thought caused Bolin's cheerful smile to slip a little as it reminded him of the morning. He'd been sick a few weeks back. It hadn't been serious, but it _had_ put him out of commission for a few days as he was forced to stay in bed, aching and feeling terrible _everywhere,_ and Mako had spent a lot of the money they'd earned doing odd jobs around the arena on medicines and things for soup or tea. It meant they were behind on the rent for their apartment, and Mako had been forced to scrounge around the city again for a few jobs to make a little extra cash.

Bolin hated seeing his brother working so hard at factory shifts or stocking shelves or running around the city making deliveries, on top of their already-large workload of arena chores _and_ their probending training with Toza, while he didn't do much of anything. Since the problem had been caused by him he'd suggested finding a job or two for himself as well to help with the bills, but Mako had adamantly refused, insisting Bolin take it easy.

"I'm not sick anymore, bro," Bolin had protested. "I don't _need_ to take it easy. _You_ do."

"Don't worry about it," Mako had said, shaking his head. "You should enjoy the time while you've got it, Bo. We've got it easy after the streets; why don't you take some time to appreciate it?"

Bolin had pointed out Mako ought to take his own advice, especially when he was running himself _just_ as ragged now that they had a home as he had been when they were living in alleys and under bushes. That hit a sore spot with Mako, who seemed to take it as an implication that they weren't better off after all despite his attempts, and things only went downhill from there. By the end of the argument they'd had to split up just to cool their heads. Mako left for his latest shift at one of the temporary jobs he'd found downtown, still steaming (almost literally), while Bolin took off to, ironically, enjoy himself out on the town in order to clear his head.

It had worked, and by now in the afternoon Bolin felt in much better spirits, but the argument still worried him a little. He felt sort of bad about turning it into a fight—he hadn't intended to, and especially hadn't meant to imply that he wasn't happy now, because he _was._ But Mako _did_ work too hard, and if he kept this up he was going to burn himself out, firebending pun entirely intended.

"Think I'll be able to talk to him about it better, now?" he asked Pabu thoughtfully, as he started heading up the extremely tall staircase to the attic.

The fire ferret squeaked at being addressed and flicked his ears, tickling Bolin's cheek, and he laughed. "Yeah," he said, "You're right. I bet Mako was just focused 'cause of work. Now that he's actually earned the yuans he'll probably relax a little more."

That was an uplifting thought. Mako did tend to stress out before he started anything he took seriously—new jobs, probending practice, and he'd probably be the same way with the matches when they finally had enough experience to put a team together—and it made him a little irritable as a result. But normally he was a rock of common sense (that was the earthbender in him, Bolin thought with amusement; even if he didn't have the element he still had it in his blood) and maybe he'd listen to what Bolin had to say when he wasn't worried about feeding them for the day.

But when Bolin finally reached the apartment many, many steps later, he was a little surprised to find it dark. That wasn't_ too_ odd, seeing as it was only late afternoon, and if the sun was starting to get lower in the sky it still wasn't quite getting dark yet. But Bolin did find it a little puzzling all the same. Mako usually came straight home from whatever job he'd found when he'd finished, to cook lunch or dinner or to just pass out on the couch after a long day. On occasion he would stay out a little while, but usually it was just to take a walk around the park or browse for new job options, if he could find any. They didn't exactly have a plethora of friends to hang out with, being from the streets, and most of the connections they _did_ have weren't the sort you wanted to hang around with unless you were desperate. Bolin grimaced slightly, and did his best to put the Triple Threats out of his mind for the time being; they were done with those guys forever.

But that still didn't explain where Mako was at. He searched through the entirety of the apartment, and Pabu leapt down from his shoulder to help him look, but the place wasn't exactly huge and it was obvious in minutes that Mako wasn't there. It didn't look like he'd been back at all, either. The makeshift stove was completely cold, the dishes—what few they had—were still stacked neatly on the table where they were kept when not in use, and Mako's cot didn't look slept in at all.

"I wonder where he's at?" Bolin asked Pabu, scratching his head. The fire ferret didn't answer, but accepted Bolin's outstretched arm to scurry back up around the earthbender's neck.

Maybe he was training, Bolin thought. If whatever job Mako had lined up today hadn't been super labor-intensive, it was almost guaranteed that he'd be down in the gym, practicing the techniques Toza had drilled him in for probending. Bolin loved practicing for probending too, but Mako didn't _like_ it so much as he_ devoted_ himself to it, like he absolutely _had_ to be perfect at every aspect of the game, regardless of if he was enjoying himself or not. Bolin could understand, in a way—to Mako probending was just another job to excel at, in order to earn a big paycheck that let them stay fed, warm and safe—but he wished Mako would at least _try_ to enjoy it a little. Well, maybe they could talk about that too, later.

But Mako wasn't down in the gym, either. The big room was empty, and none of the targets used for firebenders looked like they'd been moved or torched recently. Now Bolin was starting to worry a little, and he reached up to stroke Pabu's long, fluffy tail reflexively for comfort. It was probably stupid to worry—Mako could take care of himself, he'd proven it for years, and they were much safer now than they'd ever been before. But still, it was hard for Bolin to shake that crushing, knotted feeling in his heart that told him something bad was going to happen. He'd felt it far too often on the streets, left to hide in an alley while Mako went to find them a few yuans or something to eat or to scout out a safe place to sleep, alone and terrified that his brother might never come back, just like his parents. Two months definitely wasn't long enough to lose such an ingrained worry, even if Mako _was_ probably safe.

"He _is_ safe," Bolin insisted out loud to Pabu. The fire ferret chirruped, and Bolin added, "He's just fine. Just _fine._ I bet he's just taking a walk outside to cool his head some."

He decided to take a quick walk himself..._just_ to be sure. Mako could be coming in right now. Maybe he was just delayed a little. Or down by the harbor. Or finding something to eat. There was nothing to worry about, Bolin told himself firmly, as he headed for the arena's entrance.

He didn't see Mako, but he did nearly run smack into Toza as the coach stomped up the steps. Bolin was surprised. Toza didn't have the infamous earthbending-vision that the legendary Toph had, but he was experienced enough as an old man _and_ as an ex-athlete to know when people were around him, and it was almost impossible to sneak up on him. To nearly run into him now meant that there was something on his mind, enough to distract him. Bolin wondered briefly what it was—he didn't really like it when anybody was feeling down. But he was also distracted by his (totally, absolutely unfounded) concern for his brother, so he only said, "Woah, sorry Toza! I didn't mean to—"

"What the hell are you doin' here, boy?" Toza cut him off gruffly, looking genuinely surprised to see him. His old, hard face was twisted into a frowning sort of grimace, but since Bolin had pretty much never seen him without a sour look on his face—even when he was perfectly happy—he thought nothing of it.

"Sorry, Toza," Bolin said, doing his best to sound cheerful despite his concern. "I didn't mean to startle you, I was just—"

"You didn't _startle_ me," Toza interrupted immediately. "I knew you were there. I just...didn't know _you_ were there. What're you doin' _here,_ boy? I'd have thought you'd be straight off to the hospital first thing, not lollygaggin' about _here!_"

"I...I don't..." Bolin swallowed suddenly, feeling the uncomfortable, heavy knot in his stomach tighten and grow. "H-hospital? What are you talking about?" On sudden impulse he added, "It's not—Mako's not—he's fine, right?"

Toza's eyes widened just slightly. To an outsider it wouldn't look like much, but Bolin had known him for a few months now and he was already good with people, and to him it was as good as a shocked look. "Oh, _spirits_, kid, you don't know, do you?"

The knot in his heart grew still tighter, and by now it was as though it filled his whole chest and pounded heavily, uncomfortably, _painfully._ His mouth was suddenly dry, and he had to lick his lips two, three times before forcing his wavering, frightened sounding voice to ask, "Know _what,_ Toza? Mako's _okay_, right?"

"Kid—"

"He _has_ to be okay. He promised he'd never leave. He _promised,_ so nothing bad can happen to him, right?" He was aware on a distant level that he was babbling like a child, but he couldn't help it. Toza wouldn't react in surprise like that for nothing. He was usually pretty reserved when it came to showing his emotions, but he'd been _shocked._ And maybe it wasn't Mako, but why would Toza react like that any other way? Pabu was the only other thing that mattered so much to Bolin besides his brother, and the fire ferret was safe and secure right around his shoulders, and that meant Mako...Mako was...he was...

_"Kid!"_ Toza growled at him, and Bolin was aware very suddenly that the coach had called him several times now. Shakily he forced himself to focus, and Toza said slowly, "Listen, ki—Bolin. I'm not sure_ exactly_ what happened, I wasn't there for it 'til the end. I was just able to identify yer brother for the metalbenders."

Bolin panicked. _Identify?_ They only did that for dead people, didn't they? Oh, spirits. Mako couldn't be—he couldn't—he'd _promised_ never to leave Bolin alone like that—

_"Bolin!"_ Toza said sharply, calling the teen's wavering attention back into focus. "Look, your brother's still alive—least he was when they started takin' him to the hospital—but he was completely knocked out. I could tell the metalbenders who he was, but that's it. You want the whole story, it happened three blocks that way and two blocks up." He pointed, and added, "You'll have to ask the cops on duty which hospital they took him to, anyway. I don't know."

"Right," Bolin said distantly. "I...I gotta...later, Toza."

It was probably the most unfeeling, thankless exit from a conversation Bolin had ever made. But Toza seemed to understand, and didn't even _hmph_ as Bolin threw himself down the steps three at a time with Pabu clinging frantically to his shoulders, across the street (barely missing getting hit by a passing satomobile), and towards the place Toza had indicated.

He made it in a record minute and a half, and it wasn't hard to spot where_ it_ had happened, whatever _it_ was. The road had been blocked off, with detour signs planted stoutly on either end of the street to keep the satomobiles away, and a crowd of people were gathered at the far end of the block, pushing and jostling as they tried to get a good view of...whatever was going on.

Normally Bolin was acutely aware of his large size and strength, and did his best not to abuse it. He was careful whenever he handed out hugs or stood in crowded areas, very aware of how easily he could break something or hurt someone with his earthbending-enhanced strength unless he applied it carefully. And he always had a smile on his face, just to prove he really wasn't all that intimidating. Now he could care less. He used his strength to his advantage to shove his way easily through the crowd, just careful enough not to hurt somebody but not opposed to letting his bulkier frame and muscles do the talking for him for once. If more than a few people shot him irritated glares or tossed angry words at him, it didn't matter; he just ignored them. He _had_ to find out what happened to his brother, and he wanted to know _now._

He pushed his way to the front in record time as well, and was stopped only by a series of metal blockades erected to keep the public at bay while the police worked. Metalbender cops were everywhere in the clearing made in the street, interviewing witnesses, gesturing to each other, studying the street cobbles. Bolin craned his neck to see what they were looking at, and was appalled to see an ashen scar blasted into the stones, and a little ways away what looked like several large splashes of blood and some scattered, dropped belongings. There were no bodies, but that didn't make Bolin feel better in the least. Oh, no. Oh, spirits, what had _happened?_ Was Mako okay? Toza said he was alive, but—oh, _please_ no...

"Excuse me?" Bolin yelled, addressing a bored-looking metalbender. It took three tries before she turned to look at him with a flat expression, clearly expecting another stupid inquiry, and Bolin said timidly, "I...I just...do you know what happened here? I just...I th-think my brother got hurt, and I want to know what happened, where I can find him..." His voice wavered again, sounded small and weak, and Pabu licked his cheek gently in comfort.

The cop did not look impressed until Bolin described his brother—_tall, dark hair, gold eyes, wearing a red scarf_—whereupon her bored expression turned into one of professional sympathy. "Oh, hun," she said tiredly. "Here, come over the line and we'll talk." She made a quick hand gesture, and the metal blockade bent just enough for Bolin to step over it, and snapped back into place to deter any would-be eavesdroppers.

She led him farther into the clearing—nearer to the scar cut into the earth, and the red stains and the dropped items—and passed him along to another metalbender, this one a man and clearly in charge of the investigation. Bolin clutched Pabu to his chest like a stuffed animal as the man gravely explained the situation, desperately trying to take comfort in the fire ferret's fuzzy warmth and familiarity, struggling to keep the heavy knot in his chest from squeezing up into his throat and failing miserably.

"We're not entirely sure what the full details are just yet, but it looks like a Triad hit. We're not sure which one, but it's probable it was the Agni Kai's. They operate frequently in this area, and everything fits them."

"Fits?" Bolin asked softly. He was shocked at how different his voice sounded. Pabu trilled in response, and Bolin clutched him still tighter.

"We think your brother was hit by firebending-generated lightning, and the Agni Kai's prefer firebending over the other forms. Witnesses having been reporting a flash of light and sounds frequently linked to lightning generation. We're not sure how your brother survived, but he was probably just an innocent bystander in a gang fight." The officer gave him a sympathetic look. "Rest assured, we'll find those responsible and make sure everything is taken care of."

Bolin was silent for a long time, holding his pet close to his chest with trembling arms, and he caught the officers exchanging looks with each other out of the corners of their eyes. On impulse, he said suddenly, "Mako's a firebender."

"Son?"

"He's a firebender," Bolin repeated. "And he knows how to redirect lightning." And shoot it too, but he wasn't sure if he ought to mention that.

"And that's why he survived?" one of the officers said thoughtfully. "Lucky kid. It's possible. The witnesses weren't clear exactly on what happened, the lightning was very blinding and most of them missed it."

"But he's hurt..." Bolin rasped softly, and his eyes slid unconsciously to the bloodstains. "It didn't work..."

"He might not have had time to redirect all of it," the female officer said. "It happens, I've read things about it before."

Bolin barely heard her. He was too lost in his own thoughts. The officers might not have had a clear picture of what had happened, but with the little pieces they'd offered him, he suddenly knew _exactly_ what had gone down. A Triad attack was more than likely, but Bolin had a feeling the Agni Kai's had nothing to do with this one, and that the attack on his brother had been deliberate. After all, people on the streets had warned them all the time not to get in too deep with the Triads; once you did, you never got out again unless you were dead.

He didn't know how deep Mako had gotten with the Triple Threats. Mako had never let him go on those trips. He'd helped his brother run numbers for them, but that was a comparatively unimportant job, one they would be willing to risk on street kids. Mako had definitely done other things for them...and they probably hadn't liked it much when he'd gotten himself and his brother off the streets and severed all ties with the gang.

Bolin felt the heavy weight in his heart grow stronger, threaten to drag him down, crush him from the inside. How could he have been so _stupid?_ This shouldn't have happened. He should have been there for his brother, not let him be alone like this. He should have warned Mako, known something like this could happen. He should have pressed the argument this morning, insisted on going with him to work. He should have—

Should have, should have, _should have._ The fact was that he _hadn't,_ and had spent his day down at Narook's eating noodles and wandering around the park while his brother was getting struck by lightning and maybe even _dying._ He was the _worst_ brother ever, and the thought made him feel so alone.

The feeling was compounded when his distant, unfocused gaze wavered to the things scattered across the paving stones by the blood spatters. Most of them were unimportant: a few scattered yuan coins, a ticket from the trolley, a scrap of paper with some work shifts scribbled on them hastily in wavering calligraphy. But the thing Bolin's eyes were drawn to immediately was the stuffed-looking white paper bag, now dripping with grease that soaked into the stones from laying on its side so long. Bolin recognized the bag all too well—it was from his absolute favorite vendor a few streets over, the one he visited at least once a week when they had the extra money, ever since the first time they'd been able to spend their yuans the way they _wanted_ and not just the way they _needed._

Mako had brought him his favorite dumplings as a peace offering.

It was the final straw for Bolin. The heavy knot in his chest crunched painfully, the thick feeling in his throat twisted and pushed and clawed its way out of him. The agonized howl that escaped him was barely human, eliciting sympathetic stares from the metalbenders and a frantic trill from Pabu, but he didn't care what anyone else thought; he was too caught up in his own grief and terror and frantic, uncontrolled panic. Mako had probably been just as hesitant about revisiting the argument as Bolin had been, but he'd still been thinking of his brother all the same, and he'd been hurt _badly_ and probably still thought Bolin was angry with him, and Bolin had never, ever felt so alone and so absolutely _worthless_ as a brother than he did right at that moment.

* * *

Originally I wanted to do all seven Bromotions Week prompts. This one sort of got out of hand though, so it'll be a multi-part fic instead. It's completely finished, though :)

I don't know how the word 'alone' can be used as a prompt and not be angsty. Sorry guys...

~VelkynKarma


	2. Chapter 2

**Separation**

Part two of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, _Legend of Korra_ or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino. The only thing that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

The metalbenders had been very accommodating, giving Bolin the name of the hospital Mako had been taken to when the earthbender finally managed to calm down. They'd even offered to call a taxi service for him to bring him there—it was all the way on the other side of the harbor. Bolin hadn't had the money for it, though, and declined, instead heading for it on foot as fast as he possibly could.

It took him half an hour to reach the Yugoda Memorial Hospital, which combined waterbending healing skills, medicines, and the latest advances in technology to tend to Republic City's citizens. When he finally did reach the double doors at the front he was winded and panting hard from the run. He paused long enough to coax an unenthusiastic Pabu into the depths of his coat—animals weren't allowed in the hospitals and healing centers, to judge by the sign with a big 'X' over the silhouette of a lizard-hound—and then burst through the double doors in a rush for the receptionist's desk.

"M-my brother," he stammered, gasping. "He was brought here—he got hurt—" the lump formed at the back of his throat again, and he did his best to force it back.

The receptionist looked unimpressed, which hurt more than a little—could they not understand how important it was that his brother be okay?—but after a moment she began to dutifully ask questions about the nature of his brother's arrival. Bolin answered as best as he could, summarizing the metalbenders' rough reports—he remembered everything, down to the last excruciating detail—and eventually the receptionist nodded.

"That way," she said, pointing down one of the many hallways that led off from the main alcove. "Physical injuries will be tended by waterbender healers down that wing. There's a waiting room at the end. Ask the girl at the desk there."

Bolin all but ran in the direction indicated, nearly bowling over one of the hospital's staff in the process. Pabu squeaked in alarm under his jacket and dug his little claws deep into Bolin's flesh to secure his hold. It stung, but Bolin hardly cared; he'd deal with far worse if it meant Mako would be okay.

He plowed into the second waiting room in a rush, drawing the worried, anxious, and irritated stares of a few other waiting people. Bolin winced and murmured an apology—they were all concerned for somebody too, and he probably wasn't helping matters any—and they seemed to understand, turning back to the time-consuming, agonizing task of waiting. He swallowed heavily, and headed for the desk on the far wall, where a friendly-looking young woman was busy filing a large stack of papers.

"Can I help you?" she asked brightly, as he closed in. She seemed to be trying to force as much good cheer as she could into the room, to help alleviate some of the tension. Bolin appreciated the effort, and on a better day he might've even tried to flirt with her—she was cute, and she seemed nice—but right now it just felt all so fake and unimportant.

"My brother," he rasped instead. "Mako—got hurt—Triad attack—"

She winced sympathetically. "I think I know the one you're talking about," she said. "He was brought in maybe an hour and a half ago. Young firebender, tall, black hair?"

"Yes! That's him! Is he okay?" Bolin leaned forward on the desk anxiously, desperately hoping that the answer would be something positive. _Spirits,_ if he was hurt badly...if it was something life threatening, or hurt him forever, or made him sick...no, _no._ He couldn't think about that. Just the myriad of possibilities flitting through his head was enough to make that knot in his chest squeeze so tightly it almost hurt to keep breathing, to keep living; he had to hold on, especially now that his brother was the one that needed_ him._

As if to mock to his desperate attempt to sturdy himself up, make himself stronger for Mako's sake, the girl said, "I don't know, sweetheart. It was pretty bad. I think the healers are still working with him."

Bolin trembled. "But...but I thought waterbending healing was fast—"

"For some things," the girl said. "I'm a healer in training myself, so I should know. For an electrical strike like that? It's a miracle he lived to begin with, but the nerve damage will be pretty bad. It'll be a very delicate and time-consuming healing session, especially since he wasn't treated by a healer as soon as he got hit." She paused, shuffled through a separate stack of parchment, glanced over one of the sheets' scribbled notes, and added, "Plus, it looks like there were some other injuries—possibly from a waterbender's ice shards, since the wounds were clean." She gave him a sympathetic look. "It's going to be a while, sweetheart."

If a waterbender had been involved in the attack then it was almost certain it was the Triple Threats now; the Agni Kais rarely accepted waterbenders to begin with, and almost never used them in combat. Bolin hardly cared about that at the moment though. He found himself twiddling his fingers anxiously as he asked, "But he'll be okay, right? _Right?_"

The girl hesitated. "We've got the best healers in Republic City," she said after a moment. "They'll do everything they can for your brother."

That wasn't an answer, though. Bolin was far too used to his brother's evasive not-quite-answers when Mako was avoiding a topic for her to pull the wool over his eyes here. They weren't sure if Mako would even be okay, which meant it was bad, and the thought hit him like a lightning bolt strike of his own. Mako was _hurt._ Mako was hurt _bad,_ and Bolin still didn't even know where he was, couldn't be with him in case—in case—

Another anguished, pitiful, moaning sob escaped him before he could stop it, and he felt the pressure welling up in his chest again, in the back of his throat. Pabu, worried for his master, finally poked his head up through the collar of Bolin's jacket and squeaked reassuringly, rubbing his head against the bottom of the earthbender's chin. The receptionist's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the animal, and Bolin, in a moment of panic, cupped one hand over his fire ferret's head protectively. They couldn't make him get rid of Pabu too, then he really _would_ be alone in all of this, and he just...he _couldn't_ do that right now. Not with the world rapidly turning into his own worst nightmare around him.

But the girl smiled tentatively after a moment, and put a finger to her lips. "I won't tell," she promised, "but hide him when the other healers or nurses come through, they won't like it."

Bolin nodded quickly, and Pabu took the opportunity to crawl all the way out of his jacket and down into his arms, snuggling close for comfort. Bolin clutched him again, like he had earlier at the site of attack, and asked, "C-can I go in to be with him? My brother? He...he doesn't really like strangers a lot, and I thought...and maybe, if he really can't..." He choked on that thought—_don't think like that, Bolin, he'll be fine, it's_ Mako—and finished lamely with, "I don't want him to be alone." It hung entirely unspoken but all too obvious in the air that Bolin didn't want to be alone, either, not at a crucial moment like this.

But the girl shook her head. "No one is allowed to be present during the healing sessions besides the patients. We don't want you to distract the healers, especially when they have such delicate work to do." She smiled. "Have a little faith in us, sweetheart. We'll do everything we can for Mako." It was strange to hear her use his name; she didn't know him, and it didn't feel right.

He clung tighter to Pabu until the fire ferret squirmed a little uncomfortably, and it felt like his thoughts were racing at a million miles an hour. His brother was alive, but he could be dying, and Bolin wasn't even allowed to be there for him at such a vital moment. If he wan't already _worst brother ever_ material, he certainly was now. Unbidden, he spoke up, his voice harsh and raspy and soft from sobbing and from that painful lump in the back of his throat that still wouldn't go away no matter how much he willed it to. "He's the only family I have left. He's my brother...my _only_ brother...I can't—"

"Why don't you sit down?" the girl interrupted firmly, with forced cheer. "Just relax. Or you can visit the cafeteria on the other side of the building. You look like you could use a bite to eat, and they have some very good dumplings—or you could just sit down!" she repeated hastily, since the mention of Bolin's favorite snack had caused him to bow his head and squeeze his eyes shut to try and alleviate some of the pressure because _Mako had gotten them for him and now he was here and—_

"Sit," she repeated a third time, more firmly. "I promise they'll come out and let us know what's going on, one way or another, okay, sweetheart?"

He nodded numbly. Suddenly he didn't have any strength left in him for arguing; he just felt empty, cold, and very, very afraid. He staggered over to a chair in the far corner of the room, near a potted plant Pabu could hide in if the need arose, and sat down to join the other weary patients in the long game of waiting.

It wasn't a fun game. A minute went by like an hour, and an hour felt like a year. He clung to Pabu in the corner and did his best to try and stay calm and in control for his brother's sake and failed miserably at it; it just hurt too much to even consider Mako being in so much trouble, and him being unable to do a damn thing about it. Through the worst of it he buried his face in Pabu's fur, and although he knew Pabu hated getting wet, the fire ferret never once squirmed away or squeaked in irritation. Five times he was forced to hide his pet in the potted plant or under his jacket as healers and nurses passed through the room. Twice he was filled with momentary hope and dread as a healer stepped forth from the chambers they worked in, only to fall back into the same anxious, terrified waiting when he realized the visit wasn't for him. One woman, a mother, rose in elation as her daughter was proclaimed safe, and Bolin hoped desperately he would be able to share her happiness. The second time a middle-aged man had moaned and cried with horror and loss as his wife was proclaimed gone, with the healer's deepest sympathies. Bolin felt a sharp pang in his chest as his heart went out to the man, and at the same time went cold in fear at the thought of the same thing happening to him.

_Just hold on, Mako. Just hold on, please. Please. You promised you wouldn't leave, don't break your promise. Just hang on, and I promise you won't have to worry about anything, I'll take care of everything, I swear, just...just don't leave me alone like this,_ please...

The waiting went on forever and ever, and Bolin would wait even longer than that if he had to if it meant Mako would be safe, if he _knew_ it with absolute certainty. But he couldn't be sure now, and the time stretched on longer and longer, the sunlight outside died away into darkness, and the electric lights snapped on. Bolin hated them for no reason; the cold, emotionless lighting was nothing like the comforting, warm flames his brother would produce when they were still on the streets, lacked that feeling of safety and rightness, and that was because Mako wasn't there. _Don't die. Hang on. Please._

It seemed to stretch out even longer, too, because the entire time Bolin couldn't help but berate himself, over and over, on what he could have done differently to prevent this. It was his fault, somehow, he knew. He wasn't sure how, but _he_ was always the one getting into trouble, even if he never intended to cause the mess to begin with, and Mako was always the one getting him out of it. He had to have been responsible for this, somehow. If he'd just gone with his brother...or not gotten in a fight with him...or met up with him at the dumpling vendor's stand...or _something. Anything._ It was cruelly unfair for things to turn out like this, not when they'd been through so much already, not when they had finally made their break _thanks to Mako_ and gotten off the streets and snatched a chance at a real life out of thin air. It wasn't fair, he couldn't be left alone like this, he didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have his brother, it hurt too much to even think about it—

"Sweetheart?"

Bolin glanced up in a daze, noting slowly that Pabu had disappeared into his coat jacket, and that the girl from the desk was standing in front of him. Belatedly, he realized there was a healer behind him as well, an older woman of maybe forty years with dark brown hair sprinkled liberally with gray, and the icy blue eyes common to most Water Tribe folk. Those eyes were focused on him, and he shot upright as his exhausted, anxious mind finally put two and two together. "Mako! Is he okay, my brother's not—"

The woman raised her hand, and Bolin cut off with more than a little fear as she answered. "He's alive. We've done what we can for him and we think he has a decent chance, but it's all up to him now. His other injuries we were able to treat relatively easily with healing, but the lightning..." She shook her head, looking a little disgusted. "Such a dangerous art, and it's so difficult to predict the outcome. Your brother is lucky he's alive; his heart stopped." Bolin's eyes widened in horror, and the woman continued, "We managed to get it started again, but his heart will definitely be weak for a while, as will the rest of him. He definitely won't be doing any bending or physical activity for a while. And..."

The healer hesitated, as if considering how to best phrase the next part. Bolin felt his heart drop into his stomach, and his whole body seemed to turn to ice. "And...and what? He's just...he's just gonna be weak for a while, right?"

The desk girl gave him a sympathetic look. The healer sighed, and shook her head. "I wish I could say for certain, child," she said. "But this isn't the first time I've seen lightning damage, and I doubt it will be the last. Those ridiculous jobs at the power-plant...even with all the safety gear, it's still..." She shook her head again, and then said more calmly, "But there's always different symptoms, and some of them simply can't be spotted until the patient wakes up. Lightning has a strange way of damaging the spirit and the mind. I've seen some people acting like they've only taken a bump to the head, while others forget things or change into whole new people or just lose heart with living. And some of them don't ever wake up at all...they just sleep for the rest of their lives."

Bolin felt a sick twist in his stomach, an unpleasant churning that, combined with the lump in his throat, made him feel vaguely like throwing up. It took him a long time to process exactly what the healer had said._ Forget things...lose heart with living...never wake up._ After an infinitely long time—or at least, it felt like that to him—he managed to choke out softly, "But...but my brother...that won't happen to him, right? He'll wake up, won't he? He'll be the same as always. He'll be Mako. My _b-brother._ He can't...he can't—"

"I wish I could promise for certain that he would be perfectly fit," the healer said, not unkindly, "but I also am not in the habit of lying to my patients or their families. What I _can_ tell you is that your brother hasn't woken up yet, but it's still early. Anything could happen. We must just be patient."

_Anything could happen._ Bolin swallowed hard—the lump in his throat constricted painfully—and found the phrase repeating in his head over and over. _Anything could happen. Anything could happen._ He tried hard to focus on the positive, that Mako could wake up and be fine, but somehow his mind dropped bitterly back to all the negative possibilities time and time again, and he couldn't seem to pull away from them.

_Anything could happen._

_Spirits, Mako, don't leave me alone like this._

"You can go see him now, if you want," the desk girl added, cutting into his thoughts. "Family members are allowed to stay with their relatives. It's not the most comfortable stay, but if you want—"

"I'll do it," Bolin said. Sleeping in a chair was still infinitely more comfortable than sleeping on the cold, wet ground of a dark alley, and Mako needed him to be there, for support even if he couldn't do anything else. "Where is he?"

The healer offered to take him, and guided him through a series of passages to where the patients stayed when they weren't being treated. It was a slow night at Yugoda Memorial, although Bolin supposed vaguely that was a good thing; although the room the healer led him to had room for three occupants, only one of the beds was filled.

Bolin felt his heart stop when he caught sight of his brother, and seconds later the tears were flowing hot and thick down his face, from worry, relief, fear, or maybe even a mixture of all three. Mako _looked_ deceptively healthy. He wore one of the thin, clean white robes provided by the hospital, and since it was a warm night the covers had only been pulled up to his waist. Only his arms, neck and head were really visible, but other than his skin being a few shades too pale and a few bandages there were no notable signs of injury. He just looked like he was asleep, and that made it all the more frightening for Bolin. Because his brother looked almost peaceful, laying there like that, like he could drift off and sleep forever. And Bolin knew he really _could,_ that Mako could slip away and never come back and Bolin would be alone for the rest of his life, and he was terrified of that ever happening.

He was at his brother's side before he'd even realized he'd moved, wrapping his hands around one of his brother's as he half whispered, half sobbed, "Mako, bro, I'm here, I'm so sorry I'm late—I wanted to come sooner but they wouldn't let me—I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you, bro, and I'm s-sorry about the fight, I'm not mad at you, I never was...you gotta wake up, bro, come on...wake up, Mako, d-don't leave me alone, okay?"

Mako did not answer. He didn't even stir, or react to his brother's voice in the slightest, and Bolin felt another agonized, horrified moan starting to claw its way out of the depths of his throat at the absolute _lack_ of his brother there. Like it was just a doll wearing his brother's skin; like Mako himself was gone forever.

The healer coughed quietly, and said, "Remember, it's still early. There's always a chance. For now, try not to stress him, and don't disturb the bandages. The gashes from the ice shards are mostly healed, but I plan to give him another session tomorrow to deal with the last of the scarring, and until then it's best not to disturb the injuries too much."

"Okay," Bolin said quietly, only half-listening as he watched his brother's face and squeezed his hand.

Abruptly he realized his brother wasn't wearing his usual pair of fingerless gloves, or anything else he usually wore, either. Suddenly frantic, Bolin cast his gaze about the room, searching for the familiar flash of red that was so dear to his brother. "His clothes," he said loudly. "Where are his clothes from earlier?" If the scarf had been lost on top of everything else—no. He'd _find_ it for Mako, even if he had to tear apart the entire stupid hospital and every street from here to the attack site just to do it.

But the healer gestured to a small cupboard next to the bed, and when Bolin peeled it open he sighed with relief; everything was stacked inside, with the scarf folded neatly on top. Mako's old coat and shirt looked shredded and stained beyond repair from the icicle shards and blood, and there was a frightening-looking burn stretched across one section of the fabrics. The scarf had a few tears in the end as well, and Bolin winced at that, but it looked like it had been lucky enough to escape the brunt of the damage. He slipped it carefully from the pile and closed the cupboard doors.

"Feel free to call us if you need anything, or if something changes with your brother," the healer said. Bolin nodded absently, and she turned on her heel and left the room, closing the door behind her.

As soon as she had left, Pabu clawed his way out of Bolin's jacket, trilling and chattering in agitation from having been hidden for so long. The fire ferret paused when it caught sight of Mako, and leapt lightly over to the bed, scurrying over the unconscious firebender once or twice before finally licking his face. Mako didn't respond with his usual good-natured complaints at the pet using him as a jungle gym—he didn't respond at all. Pabu's ears flattened, and he cocked his head in confusion, nudging the older brother once again with the same lack of response.

Bolin felt sick watching it, but tried to say as bravely as possible, "He's not feeling so well right now, Pabu. It's okay. He'll...he'll get b-better." _Please_ let him get better.

Pabu seemed to accept his master's assurances at face value, and climbed back up to the earthbender's shoulders to settle comfortably around his neck. Bolin gave him a weak scratch on the head, and then returned his attention to his brother's scarf. Mako had a few bandages near his neck, and the healer had said not to disturb them, so Bolin did the next best thing and folded the scarf carefully, slipping it behind his brother's head like an extra pillow. There. Mako always said it felt like the scarf—and by extension, their father—kept him safe. Hopefully it would keep him safe now, as well.

With that all-important factor taken care of, Bolin separated from his brother only long enough to drag a pair of chairs over to the bedside. He shucked his jacket over the back of the farther one, and then sat down in the closer chair at his brother's side, taking Mako's hand again. Mako still didn't stir, but that was fine; Bolin would wait as long as he had to for his brother, and do whatever he could for him, just like Mako always did for_ him._ Even if it only meant being there for him during a long night in a lonely hospital. He'd do whatever it took.

"Don't worry, bro," Bolin said softly. His voice was still raspy, and the lump was still there, but it felt a little more controlled now; still a threat, but a threat he could do something about, now that he didn't feel helpless in the situation. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. So...so don't you leave me alone here, Mako, 'cause I'm not going to leave you alone here, either."

And he didn't. He stayed awake for hours, talking to his silent, unmoving brother until the exhaustion and the worry and the sorrow finally took its toll on him and he slumped against the bed, still holding his brother's hand. His loyal little fire ferret curled up quietly at his side, and none of them were alone.

* * *

Last part should be updated soon.

~VelkynKarma


	3. Chapter 3

**Separation**

Part three of a fanfiction by Velkyn Karma

Disclaimer: I do not own, or pretend to own, Legend of Korra or any of its subsequent characters, plots or other ideas. That right belongs solely to Bryan Konietzko and Michael Dante DiMartino. The only thing that belongs to me here is the concept for the story.

* * *

The next three days were unpleasant ones, filled with a lot of worry, fear, and misery as Bolin discovered he could do little but wait. By the end of only the first day he felt stretched thin; he'd endured so many emotions in such a short time period it was like his soul had been flayed to the core, and he felt weak and exhausted.

Yet he couldn't afford to rest, physically _or_ mentally. There was just too much to do, too many things he had to focus on. And that was if he even _could_ convince himself to do so. Part of him almost felt guilty resting, or trying to calm down and not strain himself too much, not when he should be there for his brother whenever he could be.

Because Mako still hadn't woken yet. Three days had gone past and he had never stirred once, never mumbled in his sleep or opened his eyes or even smiled or frowned when Bolin held his hand and talked to him or Pabu curled up by his neck or on his chest. He was still as the grave—it was a terrifying but apt comparison for Bolin. Only the fact that he still breathed, chest rising and falling slowly, and that Bolin could still feel a pulse in his wrist whenever he held his hands, reassured the earthbender that his brother was still alive.

_Just be patient,_ all the healers told him. But every day that went past when Mako only slept on, Bolin felt the tension grow just a little thicker, felt his soul flayed just a little deeper, and his mental begging to the spirits became more and more frantic and desperate.

Bolin stayed with him whenever he could, holding his brother's hand and talking to him, encouraging him to wake up, supporting him any way possible. He took his meals down at the cafeteria; the food was cheap and filling, and he never really tasted it anyway, just let it fill him up so his stomach wouldn't rumble and he could sit by Mako in peace. He slept there too, sometimes using one of the spare beds if he had to, but mostly sleeping in the chairs by Mako's side or folded over the edge of the bed. By now the staff had become very familiar with him, and he could already greet most of the nurses and healers on a first-name basis. They seemed to think it was sweet that he was so loyal to his brother, and usually helped him out in little ways. Most of them turned a blind eye to Pabu, when they caught sight of the fire ferret, and they would occasionally bring him a snack or a blanket or offer gentle words of sympathy and well-wishing.

He went back to the the arena only to change his clothes and shower, and to take care of the odd chores around the gym for Toza that let them earned their keep. He covered Mako's half of the work, too, which meant it took twice as long, and he hated being away from his brother for several hours. But it had to get done, and Bolin didn't want his brother to get out of the hospital, still weak, only to discover they were back on the streets again. People weakened that badly on the streets tended to not last long.

If he even left the hospital to begin with. Bolin tried hard not to think about that.

Whenever he left his brother he always made sure to leave Pabu with him, just in case. It wasn't that Bolin didn't trust the hospital staff—they all seemed like very nice people, and he was sure they were doing their best to help Mako. But if his brother _did_ wake up when Bolin wasn't there, the earthbender wanted Mako to know for sure that he _had_ been around, and to have someone familiar and comforting with him so he wasn't alone. Mako wasn't as close to the fire ferret as Bolin was, but Pabu would definitely be more reassuring than an unknown bed in an unknown room with unknown persons all around him. Bolin always instructed Pabu to stick close, and the fire ferret took his guard duties seriously, curling up by Mako's side and only moving to hide under the covers or the bed when somebody entered the room.

It was a good thing he _could_ leave Pabu with his brother, because as the days went by Bolin was called away from the room more and more often, and not just to change or take care of the arena chores. There were plenty of other things to deal with as well, and for the first time he felt the heavy weight of responsibility on his shoulders as he was forced to handle things he'd never had to before.

For starters he'd had to fill out paperwork for the hospital, in order to take care of Mako's stay and treatments. It hadn't been too difficult, fortunately. He'd needed help with some of the questions, but the nurses were always happy to assist.

Then more paperwork and a quick interview with the metalbenders, as they continued to work on the case for Mako's attack. He'd had to head down to the station for that, which worried him a little. He didn't exactly distrust metalbenders, but Mako always acted cautious around them, and even more so when they'd done work for the Triple Threats. He didn't want to inadvertently get himself or his big brother into trouble with their gang history—Mako more than himself—and he was afraid that if they asked too many questions about the attempted hit, they might dig too deep.

But the interview wasn't as worrisome as Bolin had originally anticipated, and the only question he had been leery about was their ages. Mako had told him once that Republic City had laws about legal guardianship: one had to be eighteen in order to take care of a younger sibling, and they also had to be qualified as fit enough to care for the brother or sister in question. Mako was only seventeen _and_ seriously injured, which might not let him qualify. If the police caught on, it was always possible they could be separated, even though Bolin wasn't really a _child._ He lied and said that Mako was twenty and he was eighteen; it was a bit of a stretch for him, but Mako definitely looked the part, since he'd always looked a little older than he really was. The metalbenders didn't question him further on that and sent him on his way, promising to report anything they uncovered further about the Triad attack right away.

That left Bolin with the uncomfortable thoughts about the Triple Threats running through his mind as he headed back for the hospital. Would they leave Mako alone after this? It seemed more like a deliberate hit than being unlucky enough to get stuck in the crossfire, and it had probably been intended to teach Mako a lesson for trying to clean up his act and get off the streets. The question was, if Mako had survived, would they keep _trying_ to teach him that lesson, or was this punishment enough? They hadn't come after Bolin, and they could find him easily enough if they wanted to; maybe the attack had been enough for them. Bolin wasn't sure, and it left him anxious for his brother's safety. He'd fight the Triads if he had to to keep Mako safe, but he wasn't sure how well he'd do, and he could end up just like Mako. He resolved to discuss it with his brother if he woke up. This would be the sort of thing Mako would know.

_When. When he wakes up,_ Bolin corrected himself with a sick twist in his gut, and felt terribly guilty for ever making the mistake.

Then there were the medical expenses, which made Bolin's eyes pop when he'd seen the cost for emergency medical care, and the continued treatments as Mako slept on. He'd had no idea healing was so expensive; no wonder Mako had always done his best to keep them from getting sick on the streets. He'd managed to make the payments, barely, but he'd had to tear the attic apartment apart to find Mako's hidden emergency money stash (it was definitely an emergency), and borrow a lot from Toza to boot. He'd be owing the coach a lot of extra chores for a couple of months, and be scrubbing the arena from top to bottom as well until further notice, but it was worth it if Mako would be well taken care of, still alive, and off the streets. He'd scrub the arena for the rest of his life if he had to.

It meant he was working even more now and had less time with Mako, which was frustrating. But Pabu was still with him, and Bolin would be there every night for certain, holding his brother's hand and watching as he slept-but-not-really, oblivious to the world. And it was during the third night, as he stayed loyally by his brother's side, that he realized just how lonely and painful it was being the parental figure, doing everything he could and still facing the frightening realization that maybe everything just wasn't enough. Spirits, was this what Mako went through every day...what he'd gone through for almost ten years now? Struggling so hard just to make ends meet, to keep them going one more day, to find answers where there weren't any, to make sure his little brother was always safe and taken care of and never had to worry? Three days of it alone was wearing Bolin thin. He couldn't imagine how Mako had ever found the strength to do this for so long.

Or...maybe he could. The more Bolin thought about it, the more he realized that all of those things—the exhaustion, the work, the responsibility—none of it would matter, if Mako would just wake up, manage a smile, be happy, be _okay._ Bolin would deal with all of it and more if Mako would just _come back,_ not be a lifeless shadow of a firebender. He could handle anything if he saw that his brother was safe and happy, he was sure.

And...wasn't that what Mako had done? Living on the streets, and then in the arena, he'd often seem so beaten down and exhausted and stressed when he tried to find food or a place to sleep or jobs to supplement their arena chores. But he'd always cheer right up, seem stronger and more composed, when he saw Bolin laugh or grin or enthusiastically accept gifts of food. It was like those things all made it worthwhile for Mako—knowing that his brother was safe and happy, knowing that all his struggles and efforts were _for_ something. Even in the fight they'd had before the accident, it was obvious. He'd told Bolin to enjoy himself now that they were living better, and had seemed hurt when Bolin had unintentionally implied that Mako wasn't doing well enough by them—no, by _him._

Unexpectedly it all clicked. He understood his brother in a new way that he hadn't before he'd been forced to accept the role of responsibility. The overwork, the stress, the focus, the satisfaction when it all became worthwhile—he understood _why_ it happened, just as much as that it _did_ happen. And he knew he'd do the same for Mako if he had to, because even if the roles were reversed forever, and the responsibility was crushing and painful and exhausting, it would all be worth it just to know Mako was okay.

He squeezed his brother's hand tightly and whispered, "Thanks, bro." And although Mako was silent and still as always, Bolin knew his brother would understand it anyway.

* * *

By the fifth day after the accident with still no progress, Bolin was starting to despair more than a little. The healers had said to give it time, to be patient, but Mako still hadn't woken up. He was as silent and as unresponsive as ever, and when Bolin returned for the night the nurses reported no progress while he was away. They were as kind as ever, but Bolin could detect a sad edge to their mannerisms now. And although they never said anything, Bolin could guess all too well that they thought his brother's chances were dropping fast with each new day of no developments whatsoever.

That made him feel sick to his stomach, because it only reinforced his own worst fears, made the frightening dreams he'd had every night since the accident slip closer and closer to becoming reality. He envisioned Mako like this for the rest of his not-quite-life, sleeping isolated from the rest of the world, alone in his own head, shut up in a box of a room while strangers tended to him because he couldn't even take care of himself. This wasn't how Bolin wanted it to be. He didn't want to work so hard for Mako just for him to still suffer in a cruelly unfair way, eerily silent, unresponsive and trapped. He wanted Mako to wake up, to talk with him and joke with him and lecture him sternly when he did something stupid. He'd take care of _everything_ if Mako would just _come back_ and be his brother again.

He sat with Mako like he always did at night, gripping his hand tightly, like it was a lifeline, like he could somehow drag him back from that silent world of the half-dead by sheer determination and physical contact alone. He felt too exhausted to cry, but Pabu seemed to understand how he felt and crawled up onto his shoulder to lick his cheek, as if clearing away invisible tears. It helped a little, and he scratched the fire ferret's head fondly before turning back to his brother.

"C'mon, Mako," he pleaded. "You gotta wake up. Just wake up. That's all you gotta do. Please. _Please._"

Mako didn't respond, as always. Bolin sighed tiredly in defeat, and an hour later he had flopped forward with his head pillowed on Mako's bed, soundly asleep from a long day of work and worry.

He woke up hours later when he felt something move, and jolted into consciousness with a start. A blanket slipped from around his shoulders as he shot upright. One of the nurses had probably put it there when on the rounds, but that wasn't what woke him up, and there was no one else in the room. It wasn't Pabu either; the fire ferret was curled up comfortably at the crook of Mako's neck, his little head pillowed on the edge of Mako's red scarf as he slept soundly. Bolin glanced blearily at the clock he could barely see in the darkness—two-thirty in the morning—and then frowned, trying to remember what had woken him with the fuzzy mind of the only half-conscious.

He felt the movement again, and realized with a start that it was Mako's fingers, still wrapped in his hand, twitching ever so slightly.

Bolin's eyes widened, and he felt a surge of hope, primal, powerful and burning bright, flood through his heart. "Mako?" he gasped breathlessly, squeezing his brother's hand gently. "Mako, can you hear me? You awake, bro?"

He held his breath and and waited impatiently for some sort of response, something to show his brother had heard him and understood. For a long time there was nothing, and Bolin's hopefulness started to dissolve into gloom. Maybe he'd just imagined it. It was late, and he was exhausted. But then Mako's even breathing hitched for a fraction of a second, his fingers twitched again just barely, and the expressionless, empty face of sleep shifted ever so slightly as his brows drew together in a ghost of a frown.

_I'm not imagining this,_ Bolin thought, hopeful once again. _And if I am dreaming, I don't want to wake up to the reality._ Out loud, he said encouragingly, "C'mon, bro, wake up—if you can hear me Mako, you've gotta open your eyes, wake up, c'mon, you can do it, just give it a shot—"

Mako didn't snap awake at the prompt, but he did seem to respond to his brother's voice; his breath hitched again for a moment, louder this time, and his fingers twitched harder, with a little more movement and strength than before. The signs continued—breath shifting slightly, out of the pattern of sleep, the slight stirring that grew gradually stronger, the barest hints of emotion flickering across his sleeping face for a tiny fraction of a second. They were small signs, but Bolin spotted every one with a mix of excitement, relief, and (just barely) horror, because it was like watching a man's soul pour back into his body, like watching him try to claw his way out of his own buried grave after lingering in the world of the dead for too long, and it was frightening. But more so it was wonderful, because Mako was _fighting_ now, and Bolin _knew_ it, and his brother would never give up on him like that, not when he knew Bolin was there and needed him and he could do something about it. So Bolin whispered encouragement—"you're doing great, bro, c'mon, wake up, you can do it—" and clutched his hand tightly like a lifeline, and Pabu woke up to help by nudging Mako's head with his nose and squeaking shrilly in his ear.

When it did happen it wasn't at all like Bolin expected. He figured it would be gradual, like everything else had been, and did not expect his brother's eyes to fly open suddenly, or for his whole body to go unexpectedly rigid with tension. The gold of Mako's eyes was dulled in the darkness, looking more like weak copper, and combined with the bright whites through the gloom it made him look unexpectedly sickly and very, very confused. They flickered around wildly, and Bolin saw no recognition in them as Mako glanced at his own brother, which terrified him at first—_they forget things_ the healer had said. Belatedly he realized it was dark, Mako had woken suddenly in an unfamiliar place after being unconscious for days, and he probably didn't even see Bolin in the gloom, which explained the tension and what the earthbender now recognized as a very primal sort of panic.

"Mako, calm down, it's me, it's Bolin!" he said frantically, gripping his brother's hand with one of his own and placing the other palm on the firebender's forehead.

Mako went frighteningly still at the contact, and for one terrifying moment Bolin panicked. But then Mako rasped softly, "Bro? You...you here?" His voice sounded hoarse and weak, and his eyes flickered tiredly in the dark. He was still obviously deeply disoriented from the unexpected wakeup.

"Yeah, Mako, I'm right here," Bolin said, unable to hide the relief and excitement in his voice at being recognized and responded to. "How you feeling, bro? You got hurt pretty bad and you've been unconscious for a long time, I'm guessing not good..."

There was a long moment of silence as Mako mostly concentrated on breathing, and Bolin returned both hands to Mako's one, giving him all the time he needed. He could be infinitely patient now, just because Mako was _alive_ and _awake_ and everything could only get better from here.

"Tired," Mako finally said, after a long moment.

Bolin couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a weak sort of laugh, one born of exhaustion and too many emotions being put through the wringer, but it _was_ laughter. "You can't be tired, bro, you've been sleeping for five days straight!"

"Doesn't feel like it," Mako answered back, although he did sound groggy.

"Okay, fine," Bolin humored, squeezing his hand again. "How about the rest of you? Are you sore or hurting anywhere?" The healers had listed these as possible symptoms amongst many other things for lightning strikes.

"No," Mako answered.

Even when they were both half-asleep and barely able to focus, Bolin was able to recognize his brother's evasiveness. It made his heart squeeze tight with appreciation for his brother. Even after being unconscious for five days straight and waking up in a strange place unexpectedly, Mako was still trying to keep Bolin from getting worried by downplaying his own problems. Mako was definitely an expert when it came to being the big brother; looking after Bolin was practically in his blood.

But he wasn't allowed to get away with it right now, not when_ he_ was the one that needed looking after. Bolin knew he had to be hurting at least a little, but Mako would deny it repeatedly unless he was forced into admitting it in a different way. So he said, "Great!" and bent over to awkwardly wrap his brother up in a relieved hug. He was extremely careful with it, doing his best not to put too much pressure on his brother, but even so he heard the hiss of pain and Mako's sharp intake of breath at the contact.

"Okay," he admitted groggily after a moment, in response to Bolin's stern glare as the earthbender sat back once again, "maybe a little sore." He seemed too out of it to realize he'd even been played, which was definitely indication enough that he had a ways to go before he was all better.

Bolin fastened his hand around his brother's again, and said with genuine, heartfelt relief and happiness, "Mako, I...I'm just...I'm so glad you're okay, and awake, and...spirits, I was so _worried_, watching you just lay there like that and not waking up, and they c-couldn't promise me if you would or, or..." Oh, no. He'd wanted to be strong for his brother and already he could feel his throat getting thicker and his voice starting to catch as all his fears and anxieties and sorrows came pouring out in a sudden rush. He sniffled, doing his best to try and cover it up and failing miserably, and finished lamely, "I've been so scared for you."

"Sorry, Bo," Mako rasped softly. "I didn't mean to worry you...it'll be okay now." How strange it was, for the injured man in bed to be reassuring his perfectly healthy brother after barely escaping from his forced rest.

"I didn't mean to make you mad, either," Bolin rushed on, determined to get it all out, now, before it was too late. He'd stewed in the guilt for five days as he watched his brother that might not ever come back to him; he had to let him know right away, couldn't ever let a situation like that come up again. "I was just...I worry about you, bro, but I don't want you to think you don't do enough, you do_ great,_ I'd be in serious trouble without you, but I was never mad—"

"I know, bro," Mako said softly. "I know. It was a stupid fight for both of us..." He gave Bolin's hand a weak squeeze, and just like that everything was forgotten and forgiven between them. Bolin sniffled again, but his smile was one of weak relief.

They were silent for a long time, and Bolin thought that maybe his brother had drifted off—into real sleep, this time, not something enforced by a destructive lighting blast—but after a moment Mako said tiredly, "Where are we...?"

"Yugoda Memorial," Bolin answered automatically, as Pabu, feeling left out, crawled over to Mako's other hand and shoved his nose under it, demanding attention. Mako complied with a tiny, tired smile, fingers scratching weakly at the soft fur, but froze at the name of the hospital.

"For five days?" he asked slowly, as his tired mind struggled to comprehend it.

"Yeah."

"We can't afford that," Mako whispered softly. "Even with the money I earned on the way back—"

"That was stolen," Bolin told him guiltily—it was true, the Triple Threats that had attacked Mako also had the audacity to steal his hard-earned yuans before leaving him for dead—but then he added, "But don't worry, bro, I got it all taken care of."

"You...you did?" there was a mix of puzzlement and what almost sounded like worry in Mako's weak voice.

"Yeah," Bolin answered reassuringly. "I had to borrow some from Toza, but I figured out some extra work I can do with him to pay it off, unless we get lucky enough to form a team and start earning money early. I had to use up all of your emergency stash, though...sorry, bro." He winced; he'd never been as good with money as Mako, and had a feeling his brother wouldn't be happy.

Mako didn't seem upset, but he did appear concerned. "Okay," he said after a long moment, "Well, we've been there before...but I should really get out of here to cut costs—" He tried to weakly lever himself up, out of bed. Bolin frowned and pushed him back down.

"Uh-uh. No way, bro. You're staying put, for at least another week. The healers say lightning damage is pretty hard on the nerves, and it'll take you a while to heal completely."

"I feel fine."

"No, you don't," Bolin said, "Or you could push me out of the way and get up yourself. _Please,_ bro, _please_ just take it easy like the healers say, okay? I'll take care of things for the week. You can call the shots, but I don't want you to get hurt again, so just...just be careful until they say you're better, for me if nothing else._ Please._"

Mako was silent for a long time, watching his brother. Bolin felt like his emotions were written all over his face, and for Mako they probably were—Mako had _always_ been good at reading him. And true to form, even exhausted and weak, Mako finally said softly, "I really had you worried, didn't I, Bolin?"

"You couldn't see it," Bolin whispered softly. "It wasn't fair. I was so afraid you were going to leave me all alone, and I couldn't do anything about it..."

"I'm never going to do that, Bo. I promised."

"I know, I _know!_ And that's why it hurt so much more to see you just..._laying_ there, like nothing was wrong, but I _knew_ something was because you weren't getting up and..." Bolin shuddered and his babbling ground to a halt. "Just, I can do something about it this time, I can help you out this week while you_ take it easy_ so I know you won't get hurt again. Just let me help out, okay?"

A tired sigh from Mako. "Alright, Bolin. I promise I'll try to take it easy, for your sake. At least for a little while." His voice became, if possible, even more serious. "But I meant what I said before, Bolin, I'm never going to leave you alone like that."

Bolin nodded, squeezed his hand. "I believe you. Same back at you, bro."

Mako managed a weak smile—more of a crook at the corner of his mouth than anything else—and Bolin responded with a relieved grin of his own. Pabu, not to be left out, crawled on top of Mako's chest and squeaked shrilly, including his own promise in the mix.

Mako fell asleep shortly after that; it was obvious he was exhausted and still felt terrible, for all his pretense to the contrary. Bolin was okay with it this time. He knew his brother would come back again, and with that came the reassurance that everything would be okay once again. After all, they could figure it all out—the funding for the hospital stay, how to deal with the Triple Threats, the answers for the police, food, jobs, _living_—everything, anything, as long as they were together.

* * *

And that's a wrap.

Wish I had more time to do more of these prompts...well, maybe I'll do some belatedly.

~VelkynKarma


End file.
